Page 12 of Reaper's Rage

“They are. Carver said they’d be here around eight-thirty.” He parks next to mom’s car and we both get out.

When I step on the path that leads to our apartment, I notice a pile of clothes on another path. “What’s that?” I ask Axel, who’s frowning as he looks past me.

“Stay here.” He says and although I want to argue, there is something in his tone that makes me stay put.

I watch him slowly approach and when he stills with his hand reaching out. He looks at me. “Fuck, I think he’s dead.”

CHAPTER NINE: REAPER

As I ride to Styx with Flame next to me, I’m grateful that he admitted he was happy Ashlyn chose me. While I still think she could do better than a former gang member, I know I’ll do everything I can to make her happy. Being part of the Demons is the best way I know of to make that happen.

I unlock the gate to let us in. When the original owner, Jeff Regis, found himself in debt to the Demon Dawgs with no way to pay, he signed over the business so he could move to Northern California and go into business with his son. Feral ran the place with a plan of having Ghost and me co-run it once we patched in. Flame, Ghost and I take turns so that there are at least two of us on site at all times. Ghost is manning one of the tow trucks because we’re down a man. We currently have only six employees. Four men drive the tow trucks while the other two work security.

While Flame hands out the assignments to the drivers, I take a tour of the various storage units. I’m sure the original owner had some sort of plan in mind when he built this place, but it’s like a maze. He brought in dozens of shipping containers that he converted into single or multiple storage units. But he also built a structure that offers temperature controlled units. I walk through the maze, checking locks and making sure everything is secure. We have security cameras that the club’s security firm monitors, but I like seeing for myself that all is well.

When we took over the facility from the original owner, we discovered one container had been used to hold human trafficking victims. Kingsley had been one of those victims. Every time I pass by the unit, I feel sick.

With my mind on the past, I don’t notice the dead body until I’m almost on top of it. He’s dressed in black cargo pants and a black henley. I see white skin under the black paint on his face. He looks like a guy dressed up to play military maneuvers or play paint ball. Well, except for the blood pooling under his torso. I glance around at the cameras, wondering if anyone is watching. Pulling out my phone, I call Smoke.

“Reaper.” Smoke answers.

“You got eyes on Styx?” I ask him.

“Let me check.” I hear him typing on his keyboard before he lets out a curse. “Who the fuck is that? Is he dead?”

“Yeah, he’s dead and I don’t know who is or how he got here.” I reply. “What do we do?” Hearing someone pounding on metal and muffled shouting, I move toward the sound. “Hang on.” I’m pretty sure the sounds are coming from inside. When I open the door, I find our night security, Mark. He’s pale, with dried blood on his cheek and chin. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Is that Mark?” I hear Smoke ask over the phone.

Holding the phone in my left hand, I help Mark step outside. “Yeah, it’s Mark. Looks like someone clobbered him.”

“Yeah. Some asshole got me from behind. Heard a commotion and came to check it out. Someone got the drop on me and knocked me out.” Mark says. “Holy shit, is that a body?” He asks, gawking at the corpse.

“I’ve called 911.” Smoke says. “I called Flame and Dante. Both should be on their way to you.”

“Thanks.” I tell Smoke before ending the call. I lead Mark away from the dead body and help him sit down with his back to the scene. “You doing alright?”

“Just have a splitting headache. I’m sorry, man, I don’t know how they got in or how they got the drop on me.”

“You saw who hit you?” I ask him, wondering how he knew there was more than one person here if they caught him off-guard.

“There were at least two, but I think there must have been three. I heard sounds, like someone fiddling with a padlock, which drew my attention. I thought maybe a customer was trying to get into their unit. As I got closer, I heard voices. It sounded like they were arguing. Someone hit me before I could turn the corner. I woke up when I heard you talking.”

I nod as I consider his story. It’s plausible, but I want to see what the cameras caught before I take his word for it. Mark has been guarding Styx ever since we took it over, and I trust him. But what’s the saying? Trust but verify.

Flame joins me when the cops and the ambulance show up. He makes sure Mark gets taken care of while the cops drill me about the dead body.

“What time did you get here?” Officer Jones asks me as his partner puts up the crime scene tape.

“We got here at eight.” I tell him. “That’s when we normally open.”

“Why were you back here?” He continues.

“I always make a tour of the facility after we open. Just to make sure everything is in order.” I explain.

“And you found the security guard locked inside a container?”

I point at the container in question. “That one, yeah.” I then point at the cameras mounted around the space. “We have cameras. I contacted our security firm and they’re getting the feed for you guys.”

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